


count to ten and breathe (repeat)

by iwantacorgisobad



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Canon, Post-The Death Cure, Safe Haven, The Death Cure Spoilers, Timeline What Timeline, also everything hurts, everybody misses Newt, it's Brenda/Thomas but that's far from the main point, there's a lot of friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwantacorgisobad/pseuds/iwantacorgisobad
Summary: “Hey, calm down, ya’ hear me? Just… count to ten and take a deep breath, it’s not– it’s okay. It’s okay,” Newt said, and yet, it wasn’t okay. He was still infected, the world was still ending, and they were still running out of time. Ten seconds felt too precious to waste.Thomas rarely accepted advice from anybody, but Newt’s seemed to be an exception – just like anything else concerning the boy. And when things really weren’t okay anymore, he just remembered this.//see inside for notes there are a lot smh//





	count to ten and breathe (repeat)

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. i'd like to wish a belated happy birthday to my bestie/homegirl/waifu/partner in crime, the Thomas to my Dylan lmao, happy birthday darling ilysm!  
> 2\. i tend to overdramatize everything because that's just who i am i'm so sorry  
> 3\. i also tend to directly translate catchphrases from my native language to english so if something's weird that's to blame  
> 4\. pls be soft on me this is my first work in this fandom and i'm scared (i'm terrible)  
> (((5. just clearing things up in advance bc it might be confusing, the timeline goes something like counting to ten as in ten seconds, then in ten minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and decades)))  
> 6\. facts are a mixture from the movies and the books, i'm sorry i'm confused myself as well lol  
> 7\. this kinda got out of hand

_one._

He can feel a faint breath against his neck as he falls forward helplessly. The world seems to have stopped moving and started spinning at the same time.

_two._

The blasts around them are merely quiet thuds compared to the sharp ringing in his ears. Thomas notices a shard of glass under his palm, but can’t bother to move his hand even though it’s biting deeply into his flesh.

_three._

Newt stills. His focus shifts, his mouth hangs just slightly open, and Thomas can pinpoint the exact moment his tense muscles stop flexing. He can hear shouting now.

_four._

He guesses it’s his name being called but the world around him is still blurred, all except for the body lying beneath him. An explosion goes off somewhere.

_five_.

He has a fragment of a second to notice the tears threatening to spill before they are rolling down his face. He guesses he has forgotten how to breathe.

_six._

It’s definitely his name now, accompanied by rushed footsteps, although it doesn’t sound like a lot of people. They are far away just yet, only coming around the corner, Thomas notes, as he realizes his senses had sharpened in a matter of seconds.

_seven._

He decides he can ignore them in favour of memorizing Newt’s features once more, reluctant to admit this is the last time he sees him. He wants to forget the distorted and blackened face as soon as he looks at it.

_eight._

They are getting closer, way too close for how they’ve run late anyway. Thomas bites his lip in a futile attempt to hold back from crying, but only ends up shaking the tears off his face onto Newt’s. Clear liquid splashes on black and dissolves immediately.

_nine._

He turns his head towards the approaching group of his friends and finds himself unable to make his eyes miss the handle of the knife protruding from Newt’s chest. He feels short of air and high on adrenaline and, somehow, lightheaded and numb at the same time. His vision settles on Brenda just as she comes to a halt with the others behind her.

_ten._

His breath hitches in his throat as he attempts to fill his lungs and forces out a cough, letting his world narrow to just the two of them for the last time before he pushes himself upright.

 

 

_one._

Thomas stumbles to his feet and falls back down almost immediately. His expression mirrors Brenda’s horror perfectly as the girl’s eyes settle on the limp body between them, although it takes her some time to recognize whom the corpse belongs to. Thomas looks pitifully sorry and miserable as he picks up the gun and starts to back away without a word. Brenda already connects the pieces before the others can catch up.

_two._

Once glowing-in-the-sun golden hair dampened by sweat and black substance sticks to Newt’s forehead, a few strands falling into his eyes that have been staring into the void for the past two minutes. Minho rushes to his side and motions for the others to hurry, but the sight presented to him makes even his stomach turn, and he’s damn sure he has seen more than most people present. Brenda covers her mouth with her hands as she turns away, her only answer to Gally’s panicked questioning a shake of her head.

_three._

Thomas knows he shouldn’t, but looks back anyway, and whatever is left of his heart breaks into a million pieces seeing the bunch of _kids_ huddled over the dead body of a friend. He trips over some rubble and struggles to get back to his feet, realizing only now how battered he already is. What he keeps repeating in his head over and over again to make himself go on is a mess of ‘can’t let Newt die for this’ and ‘he wanted you to go hours ago’ and ‘he would do the same’.

_four._

He realizes, halfway through thinking that, that Newt wouldn’t have done the same. He would have saved him.

_five._

Minho grabs Newt’s arm as gently as he can in his panicked state of terror and grief, letting the words roll off his tongue without thinking them through. He yells something about needing help, although the constant explosions don’t only deaden his voice, but also rattle the ground violently. Brenda staggers over to help, grabbing his other arm, her face contorted in sadness as she listens to Minho barking orders at them. She can’t blame him, though.

_six._

Gally finds himself silently shedding a tear as he hooks his arms under Newt’s legs, barely able to nod as a thanks to Frypan when he lends a hand. He feels grief, shock and bewilderment, and above all, guilt – he tries to sweep it under the carpet but he can’t overlook his own fault in it. He should’ve taken the serum with him. He could have fit it in his pocket and given it to Newt as soon as he found them at the pool. He could have run faster. He could have saved Newt, and he failed.

_seven._

Thomas is only a collapsed building away from the WCKD headquarters, his heart pounding as he runs back. Teresa’s words keep replaying in his head, about asking him to come back to _her_ , about finding a cure, about being able to save Newt. He wonders what’s the point of returning now, but his feet take him there anyway.

_eight._

Ava watches the fall of the Last City from a ground-level corridor of the headquarters, calmly concluding that they, indeed, have lost. She has long since admitted WCKD’s failure and feels no regret or remorse whatsoever when she’s snapped out of her thoughts by a gun being pointed at her. She recognizes the boy holding the weapon and briefly remembers their past encounters before he has the chance to speak up. When he does, tears are staining his face again.

_nine._

Buildings are rapidly crumpling around the only group of people heading out of the city. The cranks seem to be paying no attention to them, their only target being the centre of WCKD. They dodge the crossfire with relative ease as they serve no interest anymore, even though carrying a lifeless body is a task hard enough on its own, without the cannonade and salvo. Shots are steadily fired, but the only one hitting direct target is Janson’s.

_ten._

Thomas takes a step back but the man proves to be faster, stabbing him in the neck with a needle before he can react. The last thing he sees as he collapses to the ground is Ava Paige’s bloodcurdlingly still, emotionless face – and all he can think of is Newt’s tortured one dying so much younger. _He deserved better_.

 

 

_one._

Flames are consuming everything and the heat is promptly rising as they realize that with the staircase exploding, there’s no way back from the roof. The detonation knocks them off their feet, their injuries keep them on the floor. Teresa is in tears now, she’s exhausted and desperate and holding onto Thomas for dear life, even though she knows he can’t do anything to save them now. At last, she apologizes, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her for the first time in as long as she can remember. Maybe she wouldn’t do it all the same, after all.

_two._

Brenda’s gravely blank face answers all the questions Jorge might have before he can ask anything as he approaches her in the relatively closed-off area of the Berg she has secluded herself and Thomas in. She cuts the gauze and sets the scissors aside, hesitating only for a second before she takes his hands and places them next to him on the cot to make him at least somewhat comfortable, then sits down a few feet away from him. Jorge wants to talk, she knows that much, and wishes she was wrong.

_three._

One of the rescued kids on the Berg asks if ‘the pale guy under the covers’ is well. Brenda is about to answer with something along the lines of ‘he’ll live’, but halfway through realizes the boy had been talking about Newt.

_four._

General silence settles between the passengers, it’s only Jorge talking now – to whomever may go near him. It’s the early hours of the morning and they’re still on their way, which is taking its toll on him, although he and Vince had taken turns with flying the Berg. Most of the kids are sleeping huddled together on the floor, Minho notes, as he carefully steps over their legs and feet walking towards the cockpit. He can see Jorge’s slumped shoulders and decides to keep him company; he can’t rest, anyway.

_five._

Sonya’s breath hitches as she sees a body being carried out of the Berg by Vince, Jorge and Brenda, but relief fills her shortly after, realizing that it’s Thomas, living and breathing – if only injured, but alive. She half expects Teresa to be with him, even after she watches the two dozen kids being ushered out by Vince shouting back to them, and then… that’s it? Where are the others?

_six._

He’s as confused as she is, yet, somehow, it’s still Minho who ends up explaining what happened to her. He feels guilt building up inside him as he goes on with the story, grasping only now that had it not been for saving him, Newt would still be alive. He excuses himself before he gets to the outcome, suddenly in desperate need of space and fresh air. Sonya stays at the shore for a little longer.

_seven._

Departure is set for three hours later, Vince announces, as there’s no reason for them to put it off any longer. The ship is ready, the waters are clear, and some of them were already on the run, making it easier to keep going. They can’t look back now, not when the goal is so close. He sends everyone off to pack their belongings and supplies and be at the dock on time, because they can’t leave anyone behind. Not anymore.

_eight._

Brenda sits at Thomas’ side unrelentingly, letting her gaze linger on his features. She knows people’s faces are most sincere when asleep, smoothed out and calm, and it pains her to see how this boy’s is everything but. He looks defeated, angry and helpless, if anything beyond sad. So, so sad it might make her façade of collectedness crack a little.

_nine._

Vince feels uneasiness crashing down on him as he patrols the beach, double-checking that no one is left there. He remembers the last time he had been standing there, with Thomas, watching WCKD’s corps searching the night for them, and lets out a scoff at how bright things looked then. Too good to be true, even. And how right he had been playing the jinx.

_ten._

Gally is the last one to jump onto the ship as it sets sail, scanning the shore with his eyes one last time. He briefly remembers overlooking the Glade the same way when he left for the Maze, but shakes the thought off as quick as possible. He feels guilty for not being as hopeful as back then, even though he knows this time it really is freedom at the end of the journey. Still, he can’t keep himself from subconsciously searching for Newt or Alby whenever he needs a superior, uncaring of how he never truly accepted them as his leaders.

Jorge. Vince.

Who are these people even?

 

 

_one._

They set off to the North a little over a day ago. The shore is by far not visible anymore, only the small islands on occasion. Minho lets out a sigh – Thomas passed out on the Berg above the Last City and will wake up somewhere else, in a foreign civilisation, among people he has never seen. Just like the Glade all over again. Except the memory-wipe, although he lets the thought of forgetting the last half a year linger for a little more. He’s sure he had missed out on so much, and somewhere deep down knows he will never catch up to those events; not with the bitter aftertaste telling those would leave in Thomas’ mouth.

_two._

Vince says they will be on the go for one more day tops, and by the time the sun reaches the horizon, they can see the outlines of a larger island in the distance, with fires lighting up by the beach as darkness settles. Brenda grows a little more worried about Thomas, but only shares her uneasiness with Minho, who seems to be spending just as much of his time with the boy as her. She fills him in on some of the adventures they had to have without him, carefully leaving out any mentions of Newt, although just thinking about him makes her skin break out in goosebumps uncomfortably.

_three._

They arrive at Safe Haven late in the morning, a complete crowd of immunes welcoming them warmly as their ship docks. Vince is embraced by at least a dozen people at once – people he had rescued and saved and taken here. Jorge’s eyebrows knot together at the sight of the little colony, not quite imagining it like this in the years he had been hearing about the place. Maybe it’s better off this way, though; a fresh start with all his expectations crushed at once. A pleasant disappointment.

_four._

Thomas is alone when he comes to, a soft wind blowing through the doorway that’s only covered by a few sheets. He’s confused and lost, just like on his first day in the Glade. It doesn’t feel quite like that, though, no, not with the comforting breeze of salty air on his skin as he slowly takes in his surroundings. He sits up – a wave of sharp pain hits him but he doesn’t really care – and limps over to the exit.

_five._

It’s dawn now, the fire is slowly dying out. Most people went to sleep hours before, it’s only Thomas and Minho left sitting by the fireplace, exchanging nothing but quiet looks. The pendant with the letter in it is still in Thomas’ hands, and Minho wonders what could be of such utmost importance that he hasn’t put it down since he gave it to him. He vaguely remembers seeing Newt wear the necklace but he’s not sure if it’s just his mind playing an evil trick or reality.

_six._

Thomas spends the day getting to know some of the people living there. He doesn’t want to socialize, he doesn’t want to get out of bed, he doesn’t want the sympathetic, sad smiles, the pitying eyes, the meant-to-be-encouraging touches on his arm that so remind him of the way Newt patted his shoulders whenever he was uncertain, but most of all, he doesn’t want to chat. It’s small talk and he knows it, he’s the strange kid now, later than everyone else to join the group, and although most of his old friends are there, he feels a pang of emptiness inside, a sense of being involuntarily left out.

_seven._

He stays in bed, unwilling to leave the cottage, no matter who wants to see him. If it’s important, they can come inside. People are talking about Newt’s funeral and he can’t bring himself to listen to it.

_eight._

It’s inevitable and Thomas knows it, but it’s sooner than he expected and it shakes him to the core again. He’s there every second of it, and would have helped Minho and Gally lower the makeshift coffin had it not been for his injury sending bolts of pain through his body even without him making much of an effort. The burial is small and quiet, only those who had known Newt personally are present. Thomas speaks up but can go on only so far before Vince has to take the lead and finish his speech with words of encouragement, although he, too, turns his back to those filling the grave with dirt.

_nine._

Sonya approaches him late in the afternoon as he sits on a log before his cottage, watching the waves of the ocean. He doesn’t notice her at first, only when she clears her throat to express her condolences. She goes on about knowing how much Newt had meant to him and that she knows how he feels, and Thomas is about to snap at her because _how could she- how could_ anyone _know_ , but she stops him, only to reveal it to him that he was her brother. Thomas falls silent.

_ten._

Thomas slowly realizes he can’t bury himself in his grief forever, but doesn’t bother to be helpful just yet. He wants to reminiscence, to replay every memory in his head until the very last days, trying to remember his best friend as the hopeful and caring boy he had been, who now seems unsettlingly distant.

 

 

_one._

A week passes in relative tranquillity. Thomas feels sort of numb, but it’s the good kind – it makes him content even when he’s alone at night. His thoughts are still racing but he can’t quite grasp them, he just lies awake and watches the shadows dance on the ceiling until he falls asleep. Some nights he does, some nights he doesn’t. He’s more tired than ever, but the faintest of a smile comes back to embrace his features on more than one occasion a day, and his friends wouldn’t admit, but are utterly relieved to see him like that again.

_two._

There’s not a day he doesn’t visit Newt’s grave, spending at least an hour there, just sitting on the grass and watching the pendant being twirled between his fingers. Every now and then, somebody joins him – Sonya, Brenda, Minho or Aris it is, usually, but he’s seen Gally and Frypan come and go as well. Jorge once tells him it’s unhealthy to waste so much time sitting by a tomb, but he doesn’t care. He thinks of Teresa, too, and mentally thanks her every time he’s reminded of being painfully alive.

_three._

His wound is healing fast, he’s now able to help with small jobs around the place, mostly spending his time in the kitchen with Frypan. The boy’s cooking has got better, he notices.

The memory of their last adventure together seems strangely far-off and ragged, no matter how hard he tried to savour every minute they had together from the moment he had learnt about Newt’s infection.

_four._

He finds himself spending most of his time with Sonya, and suddenly the world is caving in.

_five._

It’s the fifth week and he’s unable to tear himself from the company of the girl. At first, he just relishes in the way she understands him, then she starts making him smile, then he recognizes he misses her when she’s not around – and, only then, he realizes he doesn’t miss _her_ , he just misses looking into those deep, dark eyes, at the familiar curve of lips, the fair hair and smooth skin. He doesn’t miss Sonya, he misses her brother.

_six._

Thomas tells Brenda about it. About all of it, about missing Newt and searching for a fragment of him everywhere, about the remorse he feels for trying to find solace in Sonya’s companionship. Brenda, in turn, tells him about Sonya’s feelings for him, spitting the words like they’re venom on her lips. She makes him promise not to tell anyone she told it to him, and he nods faintly, the world spinning around him again.

_seven._

He notices Minho still leaves the village every morning to go for a run, and he doesn’t just jog, he outright sprints. Thomas itches to follow him but Jorge tells him to take it slow after being shot, and he decides that maybe running isn’t even the best therapy for him. Too much of a reminder.

_eight._

Thomas finally gathers the courage to tell her the truth. Sonya doesn’t cry or get angry, she just gives a sympathetic nod and an understanding smile, and Thomas can’t help but see the same hopelessness as there was in her brother.

‘I want you to know that I’m not scared.’

He doesn’t want to but still notices the slightest of relief on Brenda’s face, and doesn’t quite know where to put it.

_nine._

Minho is ready to accept if Thomas doesn’t want to tell him, but he asks what’s so important about that necklace he always carries it around anyway. Much to his surprise, Thomas just takes it off and places it in his hands, giving a nudge with his elbow. Minho raises a questioning eyebrow as he screws the cap off, but doesn’t say anything when the letter falls into his lap. It’s only later during the week that he tells him he thinks it was a clear declaration of love, and realization hits Thomas like a wave.

_ten._

He ponders on the possibility of what Minho told him the week before for days on end. Maybe this was what differentiated Newt from everyone else – the way he felt about him and about no one else, and maybe Thomas subconsciously solved the puzzle already, but failed to see the complete picture before it was too late. Although, with dread seeping into his mind, he admits that maybe he feels the same.

 

 

_one._

Time seems to fly when there’s this much to do around a newly expanded village. Thomas spends every day with the guys now, lending a hand in building new cottages and tending to the crops. He’s still grieving, but the pain starts to become sort of bearable, regret taking its place instead. At least he can have some fun, with the bitter sorrow residing to the back of his mind and leaving space for other feelings. Old, familiar ones like joy and pleasantry, that feel so new and so different now.

_two._

Thomas starts to pay more attention to his surroundings, thinking he’s overlooked so many things in the past that he would do anything to have now. He wants to see ‘the perfect moment the sun hit the Glade right before it slipped beneath the walls’. He wants to taste Frypan’s terrible scrambled eggs again from that one time they woke him too early to be focused. He wants to feel the thrill of escaping the Maze that morning, after surviving an entire night there. He wants to hear his friends laugh again – because they still do, but it’s different, he never fails to take note of that. It’s different because there’s always something invisible missing, the sense of being utterly and utmostly important, wanted and appreciated, and Thomas’ heart aches with the recognition that it was always Newt who made them a family.

_three._

Almost half a year has passed since they arrived at Safe Haven and it still doesn’t quite feel like home. Thomas is mostly alone when he retreats to his cottage, and he’s achingly aware of what – of whom – he misses. It’s Teresa, her endless devotion to whatever it was she was doing that inspired so many around her. It’s Chuck, his friendly demeanour, the jokes he cracks, his enthusiasm. It’s Winston, his determination to save his friends, to be helpful, to give everyone another chance. At survival, at life, at everything. It’s Alby and his leadership, his caring and thoughtful nature, his skill at keeping balance. And it’s Newt, too, most of all.

_four._

It’s easier to let go of things after you admit they are there, Thomas believes. He feels empty, but not the same pang in his chest he had for months after he woke up, it’s a neutral state, of being barren for now but having room for something new. He doesn’t just lie by Newt’s tombstone anymore – he speaks briefly of his day and of the others, and leaves soon after. He knows he’s never going to get him back physically, but also knows that he’s there with him, if only in his heart.

_five._

Minho tentatively declares that right now, everything seems to be okay. Thomas wants to retort but can’t find anything he could make a complaint about. He almost says things would be okay if Newt was there, but that’s only a part of the truth, things would only be okay with everyone whose name is carved in that stone being there.

_six._

Upon a spontaneous idea, Minho, Frypan and Gally decide to move into Thomas’ shack, and the nights suddenly don’t feel as long anymore. The cottage is crowded, they can barely fit in there, but it’s cozy and homely, and they wouldn’t trade it for the world.

_seven._

The first child in the colony is born and everyone is fascinated. Life seems to revolve around her now, but she doesn’t look too disturbed by it. Soon enough, the kid has as many parents as many people there are in the village.

_eight._

The rush of excitement is dying down, things are getting boring. Thomas often leaves his house at night to sit at the shore alone, stifling a huff at how company was what he had been dying for and now that he has it, he’s trying to escape. Having a family to belong to, a place to live in, to be safe and have stability – it’s something he could only dream of a year before, and he’s got bored of it too early. Maybe things would be different if Newt was there with him.

_nine._

It’s the one-year anniversary of Newt and Teresa’s death and Thomas is out of it again. Jorge doesn’t want to be too pushy about needing him at a discussion, although Vince silently declares that dragging him out of the house by his shirt is indeed a little pushy. Thomas is fuming and doesn’t speak for the rest of the day, earning nothing but pitying looks from the leaders, and Brenda’s comforting rubs on his back.

_ten._

Recovering from the loss is not easier in the slightest bit for the second time, either. Thomas is wearing the necklace again – when has he stopped, anyway? – and his smile falters faster than ever, if something even manages to make him laugh at all. Guilt washes over him when he first reads Newt’s letter in a long time and doesn’t know every sentence ahead of its appearance, although it might be considered normal. He just wants to remember so bad, and suddenly starts to understand what he could have meant by being scared not of death, but of forgetting.

 

 

_one._

Thomas longs for something, but can’t quite wrap his head around what it is. He’s long past longing for somebody, knowing they’re never coming back, but falling into the routine of everyday tasks makes him miserable. For as long as he has known, he’s been on the run, and to be settled down for more than two years now doesn’t sit with him. He only tells Minho first, having his complete trust in him only, then shuts up about it for the rest of the year when the boy calls his idea crazy.

_two._

The theory doesn’t let him relax; Thomas spends most nights awake again, letting his thoughts race as he stares at the ceiling, almost as if asking for approval and support. Maybe he’s looking beyond it, imagining there’s a heaven somewhere, that he’s talking to those long-lost friends. Loves. Family.

Newt.

Some of his faith is restored when he finally shares his concept with Vince and Jorge and they don’t immediately send him off, although somewhere deep down he knows ‘we’ll think about it’ means ‘we appreciate the effort but are not going to consider any of what you said’. The last stray thought of exploring what’s left of the world outside of Safe Haven in search of human life is erased as soon as Brenda kisses him one night, though.

_three._

When things start getting serious, Thomas decides to tell Newt. He apologizes first, and then rambles on about everyday things like Minho stitching up Newt’s old red jacket for the hundredth time now because he just can’t let go of it and still wears it, or the little girl who is apparently very smart for her age, but eventually gets to the point after hours of paltering. He’s had a lot to say, he realizes with a huff.

He doesn’t want to admit but there’s probably a slight sense of guilt building up inside him again, and he talks to Newt more with each passing week. There’s another grave now beside his, and Thomas feels the air of intimacy from the previous years slip away, but he forces himself not to care. He doesn’t, didn’t know the other person, but guesses they can listen to his stories as well. After all, there’s nothing they wouldn’t have known of had they still lived.

_four._

Life is as boring as it had been before he started dating Brenda, but at least now there’s some constancy and certainty – he knows there will always be someone waiting for him when he gets back to the village after a long day of work, and although he sometimes has to remind himself the person back there is not whom he wishes she was, he feels content. It took long enough to organize but at least he’s running errands with Minho again, going out deeper into the island in search of edible ingredients and looking for space to expand their settlement, and it feels somewhat like the old times again. Back in the Glade, there used to be someone waiting for them, too.

_five._

He doesn’t live with the guys anymore, but they still get together at nights regularly, enjoying a slightly improved version of Gally’s terrible drink, sharing stories and playing silly games. It’s a manly thing in the beginning, more often than not turning into nasty discussions or skinny dipping when they think no one is watching anymore, but soon enough they learn about each other’s crushes, and they eventually join them. They take a liking in the lovestruck Frypan – he goes out of his way to make a fulfilling dinner when he knows his girl is going to be there, and he’s as generous as to make a portion big enough for all of them. Or maybe he’s used to cooking for over four dozen hungry boys.

Thomas doesn’t like living like this, still not, and he doubts he ever will, but he knows he has to accept it’s how things are going to be. He thinks less and less of Teresa and Newt, although he can’t pinpoint the last time he has taken the necklace off (probably when he had to change the leather cord the pendant hangs on), and he still visits the graveyard weekly. He’s not forgetting, he’s just adapting, he tells himself, because whenever he has a particularly bad day and is left being the only one drinking alone and staring at the sky at their nightly get-togethers, he realizes he must move on. They both would have wanted him to.

_six._

Becoming close buddies with Gally was something Thomas wouldn’t have dared dream of, but apparently, it’s something very real now. Brenda and the charming shortie Gally had decided to devote his life to are both expecting a child, which quickly led to them becoming good friends. It was only a matter of time until Thomas and Gally started hanging out more, first simply because of their girls, but as their babies grew, so did the men’s worries, and soon enough, they found the only way for them to calm down was to share drinks and express their concerns drunkenly splayed out across the table. Minho and Frypan think it’s hilarious, Jorge thinks it’s a habit Thomas should break as soon as possible if he doesn’t want his ass kicked.

He hasn’t brought up Newt, nor Teresa in what feels like forever, but a few days before their kids are born, he does. It’s only him and Gally again, more stressed than ever, when it somehow spills from his lips, and then there’s no stopping it. Gally listens to him with a newfound fascination, almost as if he’s just connecting the pieces after nearly a decade, and when Thomas is done speaking, all he can do is apologize for the mess he had caused – and an eight-year-long misunderstanding is finally settled.

_seven._

Raising kids takes out more of all of them than they expected, and on the scarce occasion they still manage to get together, it’s all fruit juices and careful whispering not to wake the children sleeping inside the cottage; a sharp contrast to the loud gatherings they used to have. Nostalgia is a welcome thing nowadays, and the guys from the Glade get brought up more often than ever, in the form of wishing they could be there to see this. To live this, to experience the wonders of a family, of a safe place, of real life.

Thomas tries not to mention Newt too much for he sees the stifled hurt on Brenda’s face whenever he’s talking about him, and it breaks his heart. He loves her, can’t imagine his life without her, but he can’t lie to himself, either – about how he’s never truly going to get over him. And it’s crazy to think of Newt like that, as the boy he was when he died, eighteen years tops; and how young he would be compared to them now. _A kid._

_eight._

Thomas feels something warm blooming inside his chest when he hears one of his kids ask for Uncle Minho. He can’t remember any of his blood relatives, and he’s aware – and sad – Minho isn’t one of them, but it almost brings tears to his eyes to know that his children think of his friends as real family. He briefly wonders how they’d feel about Newt, but the blow is too hard even after nine years, and he lets the thought scatter as quick as it appeared.

_nine._

It’s a flower that’s never been brought into the house before, or a new ingredient or spice Brenda uses while making dinner, or the smell of heavy smoke and fresh dirt, but it hits Thomas like a punch in the chest and makes him halt in whatever it is he’s doing. He can’t place it immediately but he knows it trails back to old memories; some of the oldest ones he has. He connects it to comfort, though – he must’ve felt it when he found an island of safety in the midst of an ocean of uncertainty, and it slowly seeps into his mind that it was finding Newt between the boys in the Glade still stranger to him after long days.

_ten._

The air freezes around them when their kids ask about Newt. Thomas has no idea where they could’ve heard of him, and by the time he gets it together Brenda is already talking; says ‘he was your dad’s best friend’ and ‘he was a nice young man, tall and strong, with a big, big heart’. Thomas takes the lead as soon as he can bring himself to speak, and the younglings listen on with fascination.

His heart feels heavy the first time, but he soon gets used to it – Newt is now the protagonist of all their bedtime stories. Thomas leaves explaining some things for later, but he still makes it as close to the truth as it can be, and the boys love how unique their hero becomes with each new tale. He might not be able to fly or run super fast like their friends’ heroes, he might even limp instead, but they’re sure he has the best superpower ever: he can make everyone happy.

 

 

_one._

Twenty-one years since Newt had passed, and on the rare occasion Thomas dreams of that night, it’s still in so vivid detail it feels like the day before. Every time, he visits his grave as soon as he wakes up, and notes it grimly that the place is becoming a real cemetery, with tombs up to about a dozen. The letter is starting to fade, the edges of the papers ragged, and the pendant blackened, but he still carries it around. He sometimes catches Minho staring at it as it hangs above his chest, with an unreadable expression Thomas has come to think of as sorrow mixed with fondness, but he never says a word about it.

_two._

It’s unbelievable how fast time flies – it feels like it was only now that their kids were born, and then here they are introducing their partners, announcing they’ll be moving out soon. It feels like it was only now that they had built their home with Brenda, and here their sons are, asking for help to build their own. It feels like it was only now that he noticed the worry on Jorge’s face when Brenda told him she was moving in with Thomas, and the same concern is on his face this time, mingling with pride.

It was only now that he felt helplessly empty after losing Newt, and here he is, feeling the same emptiness when the house suddenly becomes quiet.

_three._

Thomas develops a slight limp, and he’s surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. After all the years of running, all the pushing himself beyond his limits, being in his late fifties when it starts paining him to walk is an achievement, he thinks. Minho has been using a stick for a few years now, residing to walking the village only when necessary, and deciding to move closer to Thomas when it becomes evident that they soon wouldn’t be able to meet anywhere else. With their kids living their own lives, they have plenty of free time again.

Every time he stands up to walk, he’s reminded of Newt, and he concludes he can let himself get sad over his loss, because everyone will just blame it on ‘the old man being nostalgic’ anyway. He likes to imagine wrinkles on his face, though – likes to pretend he’s lived to this day, only somewhere far away.

_he has lost count._

**Author's Note:**

> /////there's most likely going to be an epilogue sometime and it's gonna fix everything just wait for it


End file.
